


I Wanna Feel Something Again (It Was Four Am)

by Micatherock



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit has PTSD, Gen, Hallucinations, I forgot that was a thing I had to tag., Janus needs a hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, This is just a really self indulgent venty fic I'm sorry guys, deceit centric, implied PTSD, implied major character death, implied suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micatherock/pseuds/Micatherock
Summary: Everything looked different at one am. The world took on a kind of filter, nothing seemed real and everything felt hopeless.
Relationships: None
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	I Wanna Feel Something Again (It Was Four Am)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Implied major Character death, Implied suicide, hallucinations, implied ptsd if I did this right, suicidal thoughts. Guys please be safe and tell me if I missed anything,
> 
> Anyways. Please this is my super veny, kinda short Janus fic :)

Everything looked different at one am. The world took on a kind of filter, nothing seemed real and everything felt hopeless. One am was not a good time to be alone, especially if you hadn’t taken your meds that day, Janus reflected. He didn’t mean to not take them, he just didn’t feel like it today. Remus would be mad at him, but Remus was spending time with brother, at a “sleepover”, making up for missed family time, not staying with Janus, talking about whatever the latest idea was. 

Janus was hunched over a notebook at his desk. He wasn’t writing, just staring at the half finished piece blankly. He never finished anything anymore. It was just so hard to get himself to do things, everything felt so numb. He picked up a his pencil, hesitating before scratching the work out. 

Honestly (ha), Janus wished that he could that with his life. He wished he could just scratch everything out and end it. Janus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. 

He wished Remus or Virgil or anyone were here to stop him from doing something stupid. Actually, Virgil was probably awake, listening to his music and scrolling through Tumblr, but Janus didn’t want to bother him. He already knew he was a bother, so he opted against it, instead opening a new page, starting the story anew.   
It was one am and Janus wanted to die. 

\---

Everything felt different at two am. You started to become delirious and nothing seemed right anymore. Janus had been looked down at his writing. He had been writing the same story as the last time and the time before that. He always wrote the same story over and over. Maybe if he wrote it enough, he could understand what happened. He didn’t quiet yet, but if he tried hard enough he could get the details right. He would know what happened and he would move past it. He could heal. 

He gave a little hysterical giggle. Who was he kidding? He would never get the story right, he would never heal, he would never move on, just like he would never be loved. 

Janus wanted to feel angry. Angry that he couldn’t remember everything. Angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and live with it. Angry that he couldn’t move on. He tore the page that he was working on and crumpled it, throwing it at the wall. He didn’t feel angry, he just felt hollow. 

He put his head down on his desk, yawning, but not feeling tired enough to sleep. He closed his eyes, trying to envision the story he wanted to tell, but couldn’t. Everything was numb again, his mind barren as the page. He shook himself. He should at least try. He needed to try. he raised the pencil, pressing it against the page, waiting for that late-night inspiration to hit before. It didn’t. What did hit was the absolute loneliness that only came at times like two am. Janus let out an audible sob and dropped the pencil. 

He hated feeling so alone and forsaken, and he wished he could just tear out the pages of his life one at a time. He rubbed his eyes, telling himself that he would try one more time. He picked the pencil back up and started the story over again. 

It was two am and Janus wanted to die.

\---

Everything sounded different at three am. The little noises, a shifting of a chair, the creak of a settling house, turned into nightmares from the past. Janus wished someone else was here with him to talk him though the noises from an unremembered past. Virgil used to do it, but then he left for his better famILY, leaving Janus alone with his thoughts. It wasn’t really Virgil’s fault, he had asked Janus if he would be fine by himself, and Janus had insisted that Virgil should go. Janus didn’t regret the decision. Virgil seemed happier with them than he ever was with Janus.

The only sound Janus could hear at the moment was the skritching of his pencil against the paper. That was a safe sound. there was no way his brain could take that sound and twist it into something horrible. Janus’s thoughts wandered from the sentence he was working on.

Would it be that bad? Would anyone miss him? Would the pain and uncertainty and numbness finally stop?

The light flickered next to him, bringing him back to reality. The pencil was still gripped in a white fisted grip, but he wasn’t writing anymore. In the corners of his eyes, the shadows crawled, forming terrifying, twisted monsters that seemed real enough to hurt him. Janus pointedly ignored the shapes and started writing again, before stopping suddenly, and erasing all he just wrote. 

Sometimes Janus wished he could erase himself, like the words he just scrubbed from existence. He looked back down at the paper and started scribbling faster, for the first time in years, writing something that was not the same story. This work was much shorter and easier to write. When Janus finished he set his pencil down and nodded to himself.

It was three am and Janus wanted to die.

\---

Everything was different at four am. No more hopelessness. No more reality. No more delirium. No more right and wrong. No more awful noises and ghastly shadows. Just two empty pill bottles sitting next to a folded note.

It was four am.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
